


Until the world is ready

by TalesoftheEnchantedForest



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Human & Country Names Used (Hetalia), M/M, Tourette's Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29733555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesoftheEnchantedForest/pseuds/TalesoftheEnchantedForest
Summary: It is date night and Spain is planning to take his boyfriend out to a fancy restaurant. Romano is not fond of the idea in the beginning, but he discovers that maybe he does not need the world’s approval to be himself.Alternatively, Romano has Tourette Syndrome and Spain is a supportive boyfriend.
Relationships: South Italy/Spain (Hetalia)
Kudos: 12





	Until the world is ready

**Author's Note:**

> I do not have Tourette Syndrome, nor do I know anybody with this disorder. Therefore, my portrayal might not be fully accurate, but please note that everybody experiences it differently. This is how I imagine Romano’s.
> 
> If you’re not familiar with Tourettes:  
> Tourette syndrome (TS) is a neurological disorder characterized by repetitive, stereotyped, involuntary movements and vocalizations called tics.  
> (Source: https://www.ninds.nih.gov/Disorders/Patient-Caregiver-Education/Fact-Sheets/Tourette-Syndrome-Fact-Sheet)
> 
> Characters belong to Himaruya Hidekaz.
> 
> Hope you’ll enjoy it!

There were a few rules they were inclined to establish at the beginning of their relationship, such as the fact that pasta was to be only cooked by the Italian man and that the Spaniard thus should provide a nutritious breakfast each morning for his boyfriend. Another significant rule was brought in when the couple first began to experience the negative effects of their busy workday schedules. Since they rarely had any spare moments of intimacy, Friday was appointed as their date night. They made sure to free their evening from any duties so as to be able to enjoy each other's company without any disturbance.

This night, it was Spain's turn to plan their evening activities and the older nation was nearly buzzing with excitement as an idea started to take form in his head. He had ambivalent feelings at the prospect of possibly upsetting his Roma, but the Spaniard was quite frankly disheartened by their date nights always being organized in remote locations. He had a wish to show off his dashing and temperamental boyfriend to all the world without getting insults and muffled comments of reproach thrown at their heads. It was still a risky attempt, despite the noticeable change of mindset towards same-sex couples. However, that aspect alone would not have been enough to discourage the Spanish man, but Spain knew his boyfriend had another reason for hiding from the public eye. 

This night, he was committed to change that. 

"What are you planning, bastard?" Romano asked, all while trying not to wrinkle his expensive designer shirt as he hopped onto the passenger seat of his boyfriend's car. 

"To spend a romantic evening with the most gorgeous man in the world?" Spain responded with that stupidly adorable smile of his that made his behaviour even more suspicious. 

"I know that glint in your eyes," Romano said, a quiet whistle escaping him before he could continue, "This is the face you get when you hang out with that perverted French fry and that other loser." 

Spain's smile only widened at Romano's words. His boyfriend enjoyed referring to his friends with various - often times pretty creative - nicknames that the older nation learned to not take as an insult. Over time, Spain came to the realization that the more Romano fancied somebody, the more frequently he insulted them. Therefore, his boyfriend's namecallings only fluttered his heart rather than displeased him. 

"You won't tell me what you're planning?" Romano asked, his voice indicating that he had already given up on questioning the Spaniard. He had learnt from experience that there were specific things regarding his partner which were not worth questioning. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Spain replied, a huge smile still intact. Romano only sighed beside him, rolling his shoulders and letting the occasional impulses surface as they drove to the venue in companionable silence. 

The momentary confusion was evident on Romano's face when Spain pulled up to a lively, yet humble restaurant after an estimated 15-minute drive. The Italian waited for his boyfriend to restart the car, but his eyes would only widen as the other man seemed to unbuckle his seatbelt. 

"What are you doing, tomato freak?!" Romano asked cautiously, his face immediately turning a vivid shade of red which Spain usually found indescribably adorable, but now, it only alarmed him of his boyfriend's discomfort. Still, he was anticipating this kind of reaction. 

"Hey, _mi alma_ , it's okay," Spain tried to comfort his nervous boyfriend, even taking the other's hand into his to draw soothing circles into his palm while the other shouted a series of decorative insults at him, "I know you're scared, Roma, but I promise, we'll leave as soon as you say the word." 

Romano was still giving him a wary look so Spain decided to plant a small kiss on the knuckles of his boyfriend's hand before continuing, "I just love you so **so** much, cariño, and I want other people to see that." 

He anxiously waited while Romano did his best to avoid eye-contact. Romano knew he would give in as soon as he gazed into those beautiful, pleading Spanish eyes. Damn that stupid Spain! Truthfully, Romano was also getting tired of the constant hiding and their "play-it-safe" approach but he craved comfort above anything else and showing his true self to the world would be anything but a walk in the park. 

Romano scrunched his nose and kept making small movements as the seconds rolled by. Spain knew his boyfriend's ticks would be triggered in a more stressful situation such as the present one, and he could already detect an increase in the other's usual lip popping. When the whistles and words started to blur together, Spain was ready to fling his whole plan out the window and take his boyfriend back to their original hangout place. However, Romano grabbed his wrist earnestly as he was just about to put the car back into gear. Spain's eyes locked on his boyfriend's hesitantly who seemed to have relaxed ever so slightly (Spain hoped he was not just faking it for his sake). 

"One night. At the first rude comment, I'm leaving this place! I won't take anybody's shit, capisci?" Romano stated bluntly, his cheeks still tinged red. 

A dazzling smile bloomed on the Spaniard's face, and in a wink of an eye, he was out of the vehicle and opening the door on his boyfriend's side. Romano only scuffed but let himself be escorted to the entrance of the restaurant where a smartly dressed waiter was waiting to show them towards their reserved table. That Spanish bastard at least had enough brain cells to book a table at a more secluded area, Romano thought as they reached their table with the younger man gaining relatively little attention for his whistling. The Italian had to admit, the place was nice with all the soft lighting and live music which languidly flowed through the air as it filled the room. The other patrons seemed elated and cheerful, making the atmosphere bubbly with life. 

Spain also decided to be extra romantic and even more of a gentleman tonight, Romano mused, as his boyfriend pulled out his seat for him and settled opposite him with that infuriating lovey-dopey look on his face. Spain then began to talk about one of his encounters with Belgium, who sends many kisses to Romano and hopes to visit soon, while a kindly smiling waitress approached their table. 

Romano tried to push the impulses down, but his attempts were all in vain. "Bésame, chica, oops, no, bésame, no, bésame, _wow_ ," 

Romano quickly turned his head away to instead focus on his boyfriend which proved to be a rather poor decision on his part as Spain's face morphed into a pathetic fond expression once again. He was smiling at Romano and the Italian could basically read the unspoken words from his face: Roma, you're so cute! Romano's frown deepened in irritation, a recurring occurrence whenever Spain expressed his fondness towards one of his ticks. Such as this particular one which appeared whenever Romano saw an exceptionally beautiful girl. 

"Here are your menus, gentlemen," The girl beamed when she reached their table, her overly friendly smile reminding the Italian too much of a certain idiot. "Can I get you anything to drink?" 

"Yes, Vodkaaaaa!, no, oopsie-whoopsie," Romano blurted out suddenly, internally cringing as he apologized to the waitress. That Spanish bastard was snickering at the other end of a table so Romano shot him a dirty look which earned him a quiet 'sorry' in return. Spain always loved it when he imitated other countries. 

"It's okay," The girl reassured him, a bit puzzled but her smile never faltered. "We do not serve vodka, but we have a variety of wines and a number of fruity ones, too, if you wish for something sweeter." 

"Umm... Veee~, fuck, can I have a 2016 Avignonesi Vino Nobile di Montepulciano, please?" 

The girl gave the two men a curious look, and Romano already began to prepare for the rude comment which was about to come. He buried his flaming face into his palms, faintly hearing as Spain informed the waitress about his Tourettes Syndrome (And God, why is Spain the one to tell that? He should be able to speak for himself!), and Romano tried his best to shut out the rest of the conversation where Spain would most likely attempt to explain his random outbursts to the oblivious girl before she decided that Romano was a freak and refused to serve them. However, upon registering the Spanish man's words, the girl quickly rushed to apologize (Why was she apologizing?) and sent Romano an encouraging smile. 

"I'll be right back with your drinks!" The girl chirped before disappearing into the buzzing restaurant. 

Romano gazed after her, still amazed at the absence of insults, and was snapped out of his thoughts by Spain's gentle fingers lightly caressing his hand. Romano's eyes flickered up to his boyfriend's sheepish smile which was filled with so much adoration and support that it was nearly suffocating. Romano heaved a sigh before he straightened out in his seat and berated Spain for being so sappy and incredibly stupid. That bastard only flashed him a radiant smile (one of the many to follow) and Romano let one smile of his own settle in the corner of his mouth. 

The evening progressed surprisingly well. Spain was his usual cheerful and charming self while Romano could only be described as a grumbling, blushing mess. They switched plates half-way through the meal, but Romano swatted his boyfriend's hand away when the Spaniard attempted to take a sip from his heavenly wine, which he had poured into his portable plastic cup under the curious surveillance of the other guests. In the background, past the buzzing gaiety of the restaurant, there was a lulling sound of music incessantly floating in the room and around their table. Music was a constant go-to when the Italian tried to ease his body and mind, alongside its beneficial effect of reducing the frequency of his tics. In the presence of a steady rhythm, his sudden headjerks became fluid head turns and his fingers started drumming in sync with the song, not due to impulse. 

Consequently, Romano should have expected that Spain was plotting something else, too. They often danced in their living room when the nights were warm and the stolen kisses were passionate and promising. Despite his accurate predictions, when Spain abruptly stood up after both men had finished their plate and stretched his arm out towards Romano in an open invitation, the Italian hesitated to grab his boyfriend's hand. 

"Would you give me the honour of the first dance, señor?" Spain cajoled, his smile ever so vibrant if a bit nervous. 

"Is this appropriate?" Romano whispered as if he was already humiliated by the prospect of public dancing, even though their conversation was regarded with little to no interest from the other patrons. 

"Of course! Other couples are dancing, too!" Spain exclaimed, and indeed, the dancefloor at the rear end had already lured the younger lovers out of their seats. Romano's unwavering uncertainty, however, had the Spaniard lowering himself onto his knees while he cradled the other's hands in his. "And if I want to dance with my devilishly sexy boyfriend, I'll do just that." 

Romano's wall of reluctance could only hold on for so long against Spain's vigorous siege. Another decisive factor was the intriguing sight of a Spaniard kneeling before an Italian man in a sumptuous restaurant which could give others the wrong idea. Even though Romano enjoyed making a scene when it was contributing to his amusement, he would rather not attract unwanted attention when his nerves were already on edge. He would, of course, yield to Spain's persuasion but the other should still work for it, Romano couldn't spoil him after all. 

"Come on, Roma. You love dancing!" Spain coaxed, finding the pink dust on his boyfriend's face adorable. It was also funny how Romano's little whistles grew more frequent when he was embarrassed. It was cute, yes, but Spain still took extra care to watch out for any signs that the other wanted to leave. Although Romano was usually one to voice his dislike, Spain could never be sure. 

"Not in front of people!" Romano whisper shouted more in order to oppose the other man than to actually avoid his rapidly approaching fate. A shift in Spain's eyes could easily inform the Italian that his boyfriend was not fooled by his act of shyness, and thus, Spain ascended to his full height with hips slightly perched to the side so as to give a more accentuated expression of his bruised pride. 

"Well, I guess I have to find another dance partner then," Spain sighed dramatically and Romano cursed under his breath. That sly Spanish bastard! 

"Like hell, you will, idiota!" Romano growled in defeat, seizing his boyfriend's hand and dragging him towards the dance floor under the scrutinizing gaze of onlookers. "Let's show people what real dance looks like!" 

Spain chuckled like a cheerful moron (because he was), and thankfully, he recognized how immeasurable kind and cooperative Romano had been throughout the whole evening - with agreeing to this whole ordeal - so when they reached the open area, Spain allowed Romano to take full control of the dance. The Italian led them to the swaying melody of the music, his face scrunched up in concentration as he struggled to ignore the piercing gazes of the other patrons. Romano failed to notice how Spain's face softened at the display, and he gently tilted Romano's chin up so the Italian had no choice but to stare directly into his eyes. Eyes, which were filled with love to the brim - a love so intense and unashamed that Romano often questioned what the other saw in him. 

"They are watching," Romano whispered while his eyes feverishly scanned the room. 

"Let them." Came Spain's simple answer. 

An elderly woman, just a few tables away from them, was whispering something to her husband as she watched the scene unfold, shaking her head slightly. Romano had to swallow past the lump in his throat. 

"They are judging us. We are two men dancing in a restaurant - one a fucking freakshow and the other a brainless idiot." 

Spain laughed at his comment, even though Romano did not intend it to be a joke. It was rather offensive if he was being honest. 

"Don't laugh, jerk. This is embarrassing!" 

His uncontrollable head jerks and unintentional whistles reemerged with the regained (and very much unwanted) attention of the audience, and Romano hated how laidback and unbothered Spain looked. He was supposed to feel equally uneasy because Romano was only doing this for him so his boyfriend should have at least taken half of the shame! In contrast, Spain appeared quite content as he lazily swayed on the dancefloor with Romano closely captured in his arms. 

"You do not care about what they think?!" Romano asked in disbelief as if the thought of not being affected by public opinion was such an outlandish and incomprehensible idea. 

"Oh Roma," Spain started with that warm smile of his that never ceased to awaken the butterflies in Romano's stomach, "you can't wait until other people feel comfortable with you." 

There was no respond to counter that statement. As on most occasions when Spain's rare genius made an appearance, Romano fell into a pensive silence, letting Spain touch their foreheads together in an attempt to ease the Italian. He was trying so hard to compensate for all the hardships Romano experienced that evening, the Italian man felt obliged to return the sentiment. 

The sounds muffled down and their surroundings slowly drifted into blurred patches of colour as they embraced each other with their eyes. Romano huffed and smiled, that cocky grin he always wore when he tried to hide his happiness, while Spain leaned closer to him and planted a gentle kiss into his hair. Romano felt like giggling, and that was exactly what he did. 

He still noticed people whispering to each other at the side, but he also caught sight of numerous warm smiles among the crowd which brightened up the moment they spotted the dancing pair. The waitress from before was standing by the kitchen door, clutching her necklace in her hand with a distant look in her once shining eyes. Romano hoped she had someone as brave as Spain in her life. 

Saying that Romano was lucky would be an understatement. As he was wrapped in the loose hug of his favourite Spaniard, he wondered if destiny was not as cruel as he first depicted it to be. Because Spain was there with his infuriating smile and that big heart of his. The one person who loved him despite his neediness, rudeness and generally volatile personality. Romano gripped his boyfriend's shirt where his hand laid on the other's hips as they swayed across the wooden floor, eyes closed and smiling inwardly at the sudden (but not too shocking) discovery that Spain was right. 

At the end of the night, he kissed Antonio passionately and eagerly, hoping the kiss conveyed everything he wished to say: _Thank you. I love you._

Spain's smile reassured him that he indeed understood.


End file.
